


strange

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, this isn't my best but hopefully it's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kageyama's been getting some strange feelings lately;<br/>like twinkling-bright ants gently tiptoeing across his blood vessels, and dragonflies subtly fluttering deep within his heart;<br/>and he doesn't know what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	strange

**Author's Note:**

> i've had writers' block lately, so i'm sorry if this sounds a little stiff and doesn't flow as beautifully as it should; i'm trying to ease myself back into writing v slowly!  
> i like to think that a lot more than volleyball goes on in kageyama's mind, especially when it comes to hinata ^^  
> hopefully my future fics with these two are better, once i'm more used to writing their characters : ) 
> 
> {lowercase intended + you can find me on tumblr at jetpackcrows!}

**i.**  
  
it’s quite simply just another evening cloaked in stardust darkness, tiny pinpricks of light shooting across the vast sky, and kageyama tobio is feeling strange. very strange.  
it’s the sort of strange where there are fleeting tingles of honey warming his body and spreading through his entire system, like butterflies; where the very air surrounding him is wrapping around his body in its tense, motherly embrace, where the heart pounding securely in his ribcage is threatening to jump out of his mouth and run someplace far, far away.  
strangest of all though, is his mind. minds are extraordinary, perplexing places, ever so slightly romanesque, even; to understand one’s mind, of course, is to understand oneself, and if there’s one thing a mind is completely unable to do, it’s to trace out and comprehend human nature in all of its absolutes. however, though the mind is known anyway to be the most unusual part of a human, today kageyama’s mind is venturing to even more unbeknownst places; places other than volleyball, which, for him, is the single most unconventional thing to happen in his life. and these places are enveloping stranger still yearnings and desires, ones he didn't even know existed until now.

it's strange, so strange. kageyama’s the kind of guy who’s easily satisfied, especially by the sport he plays; oh, he’s a sucker for the smooth, sea-soft touch of a volleyball flowing in his fingers like a starry, diamond-bright ocean. he can't resist the feeling of gliding moonlight criss-crossing through the complexities of his veins when he runs across the floor, trainers thudding, or the powerful surge of adrenaline rushing through him whenever he jumps to toss the ball. the sleek, unbelievably silky feel of a sports vest has always been just right, and even tying his shoelaces roughly together has been enough to suffice.

yes- for as long as he can remember, kageyama's needed nothing short of a simple volleyball court. the glossy wooden floors, the toweringly beautiful nets, the friendly stands full of friendly people cheering you on- not that anyone cheers _him_ on- well, they've been good enough to satisfy him his entire life, and even then with a lot of room to spare. so why, why now, does he crave one thing and one thing only; to run his fingers through the fiery locks of another boy?

hinata shouyou came tumbling into his life as an unexpected, and quite frankly _unwanted_ mess; short legs tangled and tripping, hair wild and unbrushed, eyes lit with the flames of a thousand torches burning ablaze. he's always been the complete polar opposite of kageyama, and they are quite literally living juxtapositions: one cold and dark and quiet, unwilling to speak and radiating an arctic aura, and the other so alive, so completely and utterly alive with swirling laughter and vivid grins and colourful words. but they can't stop being next to each other, being with each other, just being there at all times, because it's where they're supposed to be. it's written in the stars.

every sentence the latter speaks grows bright, screaming flowers in kageyama's lungs, all cloying-sweet roses and pale orchid and blazing wildflower and _bellis perennis_. the flowers are suffocating, too, though, and hinata makes it kind of hard to breathe. he's just such a big presence, and maybe sometimes the breathlessness he causes is bad- but mostly it's the good kind, the really good kind, and kageyama doesn’t know what to do about it.

**ii.**

it's quite simply just another morning practice when he begins getting the strange feelings in his stomach, the twinkling-bright ants gently tiptoeing across his blood vessels and the dragonflies subtly fluttering deep within his heart. he's talking lightly with daichi, discussing how he can improve his receives, when hinata zooms past him in a blur.

when hinata moves, it's as though everything around him stops, too, kageyama's noticed. time is vanquished and he seems to conquer the entire universe, a star ready to explode, although he's encompassed in such a petite figure; and he's like a firework shooting across the sky, small and sharp and endlessly beautiful, and he's able to illuminate the entire galaxy with his ephemeral glow and wonder. he is the moon, his light igniting each corner of the world with its fierce illume, and god, he is just so damn enthralling. ( _enthralling? what?_ )

kageyama knows that even a dictionary full of the most stunning and wonderful and unorthodox words cannot describe the way hinata jumps and spikes, eyelids shut tight, a determined furrow brightening his entire body as he seemingly soars. maybe hinata looks even more _goddamn_ beautiful when it's kageyama's tosses he's spiking, but even with suga's, nothing in the universe can compare, he thinks; the fierce boy is indescribable, superior to even the heavenly celestial bodies drifting away into the oblivion of space. his short, slender stature is maddeningly attractive, and the way his shirt rides up a little to reveal a taut, toned stomach is maddeningly attractive, and damn it, _hinata shouyou is so goddamn maddeningly attractive_ , and it's getting almost unbearable for kageyama.  
  
"kageyama?"

he's still gazing, open-mouthed in awe at his partner in crime; the boy who can fly and hit tosses and then land with a smile to grow flowers, and god, he is _so_ done.

"kageyama..."

hinata's turning around to beam at him, his small and slender hands rising in an excited thumbs-up, and kageyama's trying the hardest he can to keep his face irritated and sullen while his heart pounds erratically. hinata's so cute, it physically pains him, and the ice around his heart is definitely melting because of him, slowly but surely, and _this is bad_ , and...

" _kageyama_ , you pleb, are you even _there_? hello? i'm your captain, in case you haven't noticed, _answer me_!"

daichi seems to be infinitely pissed as he roughly shakes his underclassman, and kageyama scowls bitterly at him for ruining the moment. he can hear hinata laughing somewhere as daichi yells relentlessly, dragging him to the net against his will.

" _baka_ , are we going to practice your stupid receives or not?" he growls, fingers tightening on the volleyball he's clutching. apparently, he's having a bad ( _horrible_ ) day because usually he's never like this, attempting to be at least a little lenient and kind and understanding towards his juniors.

the use of his so-called strict, severe voice makes kageyama roll his eyes with a sigh. "yes, dumbass-senpai," he mutters under his breath, striding to the other side of the court almost relaxedly, before instantly straightening up when suga shoots him a well-meaning but scarily firm glare. "i meant captain, obviously..."

karasuno's captain serves to him repeatedly and mercilessly, with kageyama managing to receive each one easily and without fault; and from his peripheral vision, he can just about see hinata at the sidelines. hinata, with his shirt pulled up and soaked in water so it's see-through; hinata, sheer and brazen and really freaking _hot_ as he flaunts his small, chiselled legs; hinata, laughing loudly and openly with noya about god knows what, his mouth wide open and eyes crinkled at the corners adorably, and _oh my god his dimples are so cute_ -

"holy mother of jesus, kageyama, what the hell's wrong with you today?" daichi is shrieking, his arms flailing about wildly, and he begins yelling without any hesitation again. his underclassman tunes out wearily until he shouts, "come here, you little shit- i'm going to drill some tips into you. and by drill, i mean really drill."

gulping, kageyama heads down towards the captain while watching his best friend across the gym- hinata's giggling manically with noya, now, his smile brighter than sunshine and his face completely lit up with some sort of undying happiness and glee. as he walks, he watches noya tiptoe to ruffle his orange, feather-like locks in an admiring gesture, and shit- kageyama's suddenly noticing the way the light falls on hinata, molten golden honey softening his sunny-bright features and making his eyes glitter exactly like the stars and just, just illuminating him so _beautifully_ \- and god, suddenly he's never wanted anything more than to comb his fingers through the fluffy orange mess, the mass of gorgeous goddamn hair which just makes hinata _hinata_. he imagines each soft, smooth individual strand, the way it'd feel being brushed gently across by his fingertips, and best of all, he imagines the incredible large and incredibly endearing beam hinata would be sure to reward him with afterwards. kageyama wants to fucking stroke his hair, and look into those deep, determined eyes of his, and talk to him about the universe and what he thinks of life and death and everything in between, and touch his stomach and make him sigh deeply, and, goddamn it, _what the hell_ is this feeling? what's happening to him? what-

his thoughts are fortunately interrupted by daichi, who looks a little weary and worn-out from the strenuous serving. "right, kags," he starts, placing a hand on his kouhai's black shirt, and kageyama's slightly damp; sweating not just from volleyball but from pure nerves and anxiety, which is unusual enough in itself. but also, also, his cheeks are aglow with sprinklings of dusky volcanic pink, almost like a sunset across a vast ocean, and clearly he's heated; and god, kageyama tobio is, in fact, flustered as hell, and that sends alarm bells ringing in daichi's head. he grabs the younger boy, pulling him right up close to his face.

kageyama seems a little out of it still, so he clicks his incisors together and sighs in utmost frustration. "kags..." he says again, seemingly annoyed and giving off some sort of terrifying, blue-black aura. he grits his teeth, wincing to stop himself from yelling. "kags, i know you'd rather be looking at hinata than playing volleyball, but could you at least... i don't know, tone it down a little, put in some more effort- for the team, at least?"

"huh?"

"we all know you're kind of, i don't know, you know what i mean, infatuated with that boy, but it'd be great if you could still make contributions to the team, if you get me? we're all in this together, after all..."

"wait, _what_?"

kageyama is fifty shades of red as he stares on at his captain, horror painted all over his face. he's burning up and he's speechless and he cannot speak for the life of him and- _what_ \- daichi thinks he's infatuated? infatuated with hinata, who's- who's a boy, and his teammate, and his rival, of all people?

he feels a hot flush creeping down his neck, and he looks at the ground, gulping. daichi's absolutely right. he always is. but kageyama doesn't want to admit it to himself; it's too dangerous, too rough, too asperous an idea, the silver-ice blade of it just too sharp and just too refined and just too goddamn suited to the job of cutting his fragile relationships to pieces. he can't risk losing what he's so carefully built up over the past few months, even if it means painfully suppressing everything and lying to everyone else. he can't.

with a sigh, daichi pats him on the back and gently pushes him towards the end of the court again. "you're going to work, and you're going to work hard, okay? ignore all of this other bullshit, because during volleyball practice, your priority is volleyball- _not_ an orange-haired ball of excitement, no matter how tempting that is. you get me, kags?"

for the rest of practice, kageyama grits his teeth and furrows his brows and concentrates on receiving, tossing, serving, everything he's been meaning to polish up. not once does he glance at _him_ , the boy who's driving him crazy, the orange-haired ball of excitement, until the words come tumbling out of his mouth.

it's way too sudden and way too random, but everyone is too used to it to even feel a shred of surprise. "toss to me, kageyama-kun!" hinata yells out of nowhere, and at that moment everything's a blur of fire and orange and big brown eyes and blackness, and kageyama tosses the ball hard to him, and he jumps with all his might- his small, toned arms reaching for the heavens, the muscles on his legs straining as he soars high- and as he spikes the ball with his beautiful, petite hand, as the sound of it resonates through the silent volleyball court with a powerful echo, as hinata lightly lands back on his two feet with knees bent and eyes wide in wonder, kageyama swears there are majestic black wings spreading out all around him, framing his tiny, immense figure. he's never once believed in fairytales, not even as a child, but now he's met hinata, he knows that it's completely possible to fly.

kageyama's never flown higher than when hinata turns to him after that successful spike, and looks up at him with those mesmerising goddamn amber eyes of his, and smiles wide enough to make up for the entire world. "together we're invincible, aren't we?" he's laughing, and his bright beam looks like the sun.

with that, the corners of kageyama's lips lift up, so slight that only hinata can see the difference, and his heart clenches as he reaches forward to ruffle his best friend's hair at long last. there's bittersweet apricot between his languid fingers and a sweet, sweet ache in his chest as he nods in agreement with his cheerful partner, before turning away in embarrassment, not allowing himself to meet the amused gazes and smirks of his teammates. "dumbass." he mutters as he walks away, and the dumbass he's referring to actually has the nerve to laugh, chuckle wonderfully until everyone's grinning unabashedly- and it's a harmony in kageyama's ears, it really is.

he finds it hard to articulate things, most of the time, but with hinata, words aren't even needed- just the meeting of gazes, the ghosts of a smile, the mischievous glints in their eyes hinting at an upcoming affectionate punch, slap, kick- it's more than enough for the two of them.

they're invincible.

and he's flying.

**iii.**

it's quite simply just another afternoon after school when kageyama begins getting the strange urges, the urges where all he wants to do is press his lips against hinata's.

the sky is painted a hundred strokes of cerulean, summer, icy blues and greens and purples symphonising together in a stunning orchestra, but kageyama knows that hinata is much prettier than even the sky above them; the single melody he represents a long, achingly sweet euphony, wild with highs and lows and flats and sharps. the entire team's together today, and they're all wrapped in the light june breeze, and in that moment, as kageyama watches his incredible friend chuckle and grin and laugh, everything is perfect.

the sun glares down at them as hinata leads the team, skipping backwards down towards the convenience store. he's deep in conversation with tanaka about their earlier practice match with aoba johnsai, and _goddamn it_ , kageyama can't take his eyes off of him; hinata is like cloying-sweet honey, gentle saccharine poison between his lips, and he can't get enough of it. he's hooked.

"bakageyama's toss to me at the end was just so freaking... gwah, right? it was amazing! and my spike just went, like, bam past everyone! it was so damn good!"

hinata looks way too over-enthusiastic as he bubbles with excitement and energy, sparks almost literally flying out of him even after such a tiring game. he earns the smiles and murmurs in agreement of everyone else, and suga grins and heartily declares, "you guys really are the perfect match, y'know?" he's smiling good-naturedly, eyes flicking back and forth from one boy to the other.

"aren't we? i'm still gonna beat him, though!" hinata gushes, and he bounces on with the rest of the team trailing languidly behind him, unaware of the fact that kageyama's stopped in the middle of the road.

he knows it meant nothing absolute, but a thousand hues of fire, scarlet and crimson and rosy, dark embarrassment is blossoming from one side of kageyama's face to the other as he looks away with bulging eyes. perfect match? they're complete opposites, both in terms of looks and personality, really, but maybe that's why they fit so well together- two peas in a pod, jigsaw pieces that aren't quite identical but that fill each other's voids and flaws faultlessly. it's terrifying to admit, but it's also very goddamn true, that he and hinata are almost practically like a power couple; and kageyama wishes he could disappear, fade into the washed-out blue sky, all because his reaction is so stupid, stupid, stupid.

"hey, bakageyama!" hinata calls, piercing through his thoughts, and when he looks up he sees that the orange-haired boy's turned back with one small, dainty hand outstretched towards him. "you coming, or what?"

it's like a cue. the sound of hinata's voice _does_ things to kageyama, things he didn't know were even possible before. it's sending butterflies fluttering against his ribcage, and alien tingles down his spine, and his heartbeat speeding up till it's hammering relentlessly. he's hopeless.

molten reds and yellows erupt like explosive lava and paint kageyama's insides with wild graffiti as he almost struggles to breathe. determined to keep his face seemingly nonchalant and unaffected and somewhat bored, he reaches his own hand out and places it in the other boy's without looking directly at him, which isn't too hard- the smile lighting up the other's face is so bright that kageyama's forced to tear his eyes away from him in fear of being blinded. but their hands, _oh_ , their hands slot together perfectly, one big and rough and strong while the other is small and sturdy and soft, and it feels like colouring inside the lines, painting a watercolour and watching the swirls slowly dripping down like hot flames of a candle. it's electrifying, it really is, and kageyama's suddenly filled with an overpowering confidence as he's dragged down the street by hinata.

no-one seems to notice anything different as they enter the shop with a cheerful 'ding' of the bell, laugh rowdily amongst the isles of food, pick out the perfect meat buns and milk boxes. the atmosphere is light and mellow and bright, shimmering all around them, drenching the team in happiness, but kageyama can't stop staring at hinata. he can't help but let his eyes freely roam the other boy's body, realising that he's like a living embodiment of heaven, he really is; and he can't get enough of gazing at the spiker's marigold curls, his star-bright eyes, his flawlessly defined jawline and small, upturned nose and rose-pink lips and completely kissable neck. when they're closer together, kageyama's heart pounds just a little bit faster and he somehow manages to breathe out a shaky, broken, "you're exquisite," while wishing desperately that he could hold hinata in his arms for the rest of time.

it's utterly cliché, but of course hinata doesn't hear properly. "sorry?" he asks with a confused, nervous glint in his eyes, and newfound mortification embraces kageyama again as he realises the weight of what he'd just said. angry red patches clinging to his cheeks, he only manages to get a few words out again to the boy he's going crazy for, who currently seems just as crazy for a response.

 "you're kind of... kind of... nn... knife... nuff... nice."

the laugh which hinata responds with sends blood rushing down kageyama's body and he's a little dizzy and light-headed, really, though in the best way possible. "what?" hinata grins after consoling himself, and his face is lit up with sunshine laughter and a loquacious smile, and he is so, so beautiful. "that's totally relevant, right? but thanks, i guess, bakageyama!"

the stars sprinkled across his irises, the cat-like tongue swiping across his inviting lips, the slight crinkle of his brow as he expresses himself freely- it's all suddenly too much for kageyama to take, and he forces his gaze to the linear, static labels of the pork buns in front of him. "dumbass," he mumbles. and hinata laughs again.

the team are all bantering and exchanging exhausted smiles and hopes when the duo decide to leave early from the store together. kageyama walks on stiffly, awkwardly, being the socially inept person he is, while hinata hangs back lengthily to inform daichi of their departure- "yo! captain! we're leaving now, great match, see ya tomorrow!"

the raven-haired setter finds himself thanking each and every god in the sky that he and hinata are finally alone as they exit the store to a pleasant tinkle of the bell and step into the darkening world outside. it's twilight, and watercolour washes of gold and pink and rhyolite red seep into the horizon, drip down the canvas of the sky, cloak everything in igneous bronzes and golds, and in that moment, everything is the most beautiful it could ever be. unfortunately enough, though, kageyama can't admire the sky in all of its molten glory, because hinata's much more radiant than the setting sun could ever be. he can't look away.

they walk in silence, but it's only when they reach a certain road- paved and woven with intrinsic black asphalt, ivy-twined, with daffodils peeking through the cracks- that hinata finally stops in his tracks. he swivels around on his feet to look at the taller boy, and there's a determined crinkle in his eyebrows, his eyes wide and mouth set in a straight line. it's the first time, somehow, that kageyama's seen him look so serious and deadpan- he wasn't even this intense when vowing to beat him in high school, he really wasn't. the black-haired boy swallows the lump in the back of his throat as he hastily diverts his gaze from him and his eyes dart from side-to-side, up at the darkening blanket above them and down below at the pavement-dwelling plants- anywhere but at hinata. he doesn't think he'll be able to control himself if he meets that fierce, smouldering gaze, otherwise.

"kageyama-kun." hinata begins, and there's an edge to his voice, the tone laced and intertwined with some sort of quiet, fleeting sadness and disappointment. he doesn't know what he's done, so he doesn't answer, refusing to make eye contact again.

"kageyama," the boy with the fire eyes repeats, stepping closer this time. his heart stops in his chest. "kageyama, why aren't you talking to me anymore? what have i done?"

"huh?" kageyama starts with a panic, about to argue, but hinata stops him by pressing a finger to his lips, before rambling on. "i've tried yelling at you and arguing with you and fighting you for the past two weeks, but you've just completely shut me out! ever since that one time in practice, you haven't looked at me properly, talked to me properly, even tossed to me properly. am i not essential to winning anymore? have i hurt you?"

kageyama coughs and looks down awkwardly, unsure of what to say, and his heart is pounding erratically against his skin, leaving vein-shaped fingerprints on his chest. he wills himself to talk, to say something, to tell him that everything's okay, but it's like his voice has vanished, and his throat is painfully dry. never before has he so hated his stupid, stupid socially awkward nature, his inability to speak when it's most important. and the worst thing is, hinata hasn't even done anything wrong. if anything, he's done everything right- a little too right, perhaps.

"i don't want to hurt you," hinata says, finally, after a brief, ephemeral moment of silence. kageyama looks up quickly, and instantly regrets his entire life. he's never felt his heart break before, but it does now, shattering into millions of silver-bright shards as soft as crystal as he looks on at hinata.

he looks so little, so innocent, so utterly despaired right now as he nervously knots his bag in between his fingers, and there's a tiny frown on his face, and yet- _goddamn it_ \- he still looks so good, so, so good, even when he's upset. it's too much for kageyama to physically restrain himself as he takes in the flush of hinata's cheeks, the locks of his fiery-orange hair, the pout gracing his lips- and, quickly, ever so quickly, he bends down, in the heat of the moment.

time stops as he closes the distance between them.

it's too rushed, too hastily done, but somehow, something snaps in kageyama so suddenly, and he _kisses_ hinata- he fucking, goddamn _kisses_ him- and all of a sudden they're holding each other, his hands snaking around the smaller boy's waist and pulling him closer, closer, closer while the other curls his fists tightly on the setter's chest- and oh god, it's so _good_ , it's so intoxicating, and hinata tastes of peppermint and raspberries and molten happiness.

and then he draws back, panting heavily, and he whispers "what?" in a daze, but kageyama knows he liked it- _of course_ he liked it- and his hair is ruffled, messy, all over the place, his cheeks red and lips swollen beautifully. it's a look he knows he will never get used to, get enough of, but as he drinks it in as fully as he can, hinata turns around with a gasp.

and runs.

**iv.**

kageyama's afraid, so afraid to text him, but he knows it's something he has to do if he wants peace.

it's two in the morning and he can't stop thinking about hinata, he just can't. he's still in shock at the fact that he had actually managed to muster up the courage to kiss him- shit, they'd actually fucking _kissed_ \- but now that kageyama's done it once, he doesn't know how he'll be able to control himself in future situations. it's exhilirating, thrilling, addicting really, to have kissed someone you've wanted to love for so long; but at the same time kageyama's seized with some sort of presentiment, fear, heavy anxiety at the thought of seeing hinata again. and why did he run away? what did he do wrong? despite the fact that he kissed back, does hinata actually have feelings for him?

he gulps down his fears and types out a message to the boy in question, proofreading it nine times, editing and removing some words here and there to look more casual, more unaffected. he ends up simply sending one word.

 **2:03am // monday, 9th march // to: hinata shouyou**  
_hey._

hinata responds almost immediately, the ecstatic 'ping' of the notification making kageyama jump, and he reads the message with terror etched into his brain; the unsettling worry of rejection.

 **2:03am // monday, 9th march // from:  hinata shouyou**  
_baka!! why didn't u text me for so long? are u gonna avoid me again? u better not u idiot, don't spoil what hpnd today_  
  
he feels the dread hanging over him in a dark, foreboding cloud lift all of a sudden; hinata's the same as he always is, beautiful, energetic, bright, even when it's two am and he's been kissed by his rival without warning.   
**  
2:06am // monday, 9th march // to: hinata shouyou**

_dumbass. sorry. are we going to talk about it?_

after a brief second, the next messages come in, and they make kageyama so, so happy- he's never felt more elated in his life.

 **2:06am // monday, 9th march // from:  hinata shouyou**  
_we can, and we will. it was nice though, ok?_

 **2:07am // monday, 9th march // from:  hinata shouyou**  
_< 3_

the corners of his lips turn up. and kageyama smiles.   
how strange, indeed.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Strange](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6595696) by [Shiro Talks (Shironeko_kohai)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shironeko_kohai/pseuds/Shiro%20Talks)




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